


for the dark and the uncertain

by erlkoenig



Series: Terrifying Tolkien Week 2017 [5]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Annatar is willing to indulge to a point, M/M, Terrifying Tolkien Week, Tyelpe has a thing for monstrous lovers, beauty is terror, mild body horror, wine-soaked confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 13:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12558264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erlkoenig/pseuds/erlkoenig
Summary: These thoughts are a distraction in the forge, eyes flicking up to that face looking for something, anything.It was a trick of the light and nothing morebut every fiber of his being screams that it was not.





	for the dark and the uncertain

**Author's Note:**

> day five: beauty is terror

The firelight flickers shadows across his face and Tyelperinquar thinks he can see something there, lurking just under the skin. A shift, flesh pulled tight over too many too-sharp teeth, mouth too wide for his face and lips stained red with --

(wine? blood? both?)

\--there for a moment and then gone, and he can tell himself he is simply tired. Presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and excuses himself for the night. 

Alone, he lets his mind drift to eyes like molten gold, fire-bright hair and his hand wanders down under the blankets.

_Thinks of sharp white teeth on his neck and wonders what they would feel like against his skin._

It is a distraction in the forge, eyes flicking up to that face looking for something, anything. _It was a trick of the light and nothing more_ but every fiber of his being screams that it was not. 

He wants to _see_ , but he does not know how to ask.

It rushes out, wine drenched and pulled from him in a haze. The night air is chilly and he moves close to Annatar, feels the heat radiating from him and for a moment he thinks he can see cracks race over the back of the Maia’s hands, red-hot spiderwebs of fire. He blinks and the illusion fades but he cannot help the words that spill out of him.

“What do you look like?”

Annatar laughs, reaches to take the cup from his hands, delicate, measured, controlled.

_He could break me without trying._ There's heat in his face, a flush spreads over his cheeks and he wants to take the words back but they hang in the silence between them. 

“Can you not see me, Tyelperinquar?”

His fingers twitch to take his cup back, to drain it and blame it all on too much drink and too many nights of fitful sleep. But Annatar is watching him with those eyes, tracks every little movement, every clench and unclench of fingers, every shift of weight from foot to foot, follows the movement of his tongue as it darts out to nervously wet his lips and his mouth is too dry. 

“Or perhaps you do not like this form? Hm?” 

Tyelpe shakes his head, hair shaking loose from the messy bun he has it pulled up in and he reaches up to nervously tuck a strand behind his ear. “No, no that is not it.” He takes a breath, wants to change the subject but his mouth betrays him again. “You are beautiful, the way lightning is beautiful.” It feels cheap even as his lips form the words and he flushes again, tries again. “But there is something else.”

“Oh?” The sound is a purr and a half-stifled laugh. Annatar is indulging him and he knows he should stop but he cannot. 

“Something underneath this form you have crafted and I wish--” closes his eyes briefly and shrugs, trembling. “I wish to see it.”

Annatar says nothing, inclines his head and hums as if considering. Tyelperinquar is certain he will leave, is certain that he will walk away from him tonight and perhaps from Eregion by morning. He trembles more, perhaps from the cold that seems to seep in through the stones from outside, perhaps from shame.

Perhaps from the thrill that Annatar might not leave after all, because the Maia takes a step closer to him and they are impossibly close. He can see the gentle curve of his lips as they pull up into a smirk, can feel the heat from him like the billow of the forge. He wants to touch and his fingers twitch towards him again.

“Come with me.”

It is dark in Annatar’s rooms and Tyelpe despairs that he does not move to light a candle. His eyes adjust to the dark, to the dim light of the moon spilling in through the window but then Annatar is touching him, tracing fingertips over his face so gentle like he is something precious. 

“Keep your eyes open,” his breath is hot against the shell of his ear and Tyelpe can only nod as Annatar pulls away. A rustle of fabric as Annatar’s robes pool at his feet and he is pulled down into the bed. 

He tries to see everything, touches what he cannot but it is too much, too fast. He is burning, every touch of skin against skin is scorching and he can see

_flickers of that wide mouth, those sharp teeth, golden eyes but when he blinks there are more and then gone, too many hands on him, on his hips pulling him closer closer closer and raking red trails up his back, embers under skin glowing brighter with each breathless cry_

Too much, even this little bit, these flashes of him and Tyelpe presses his face to his neck and breathes him in, ash and smoke, iron and gold and something else that lingers in his mouth and on his tongue.

He wakes to sunlight burning his eyes and an empty bed.

**Author's Note:**

> nelyafinwes.tumblr.com


End file.
